What every Fantasy Writer can learn from Star Wars

I’m a few days late, but I thought I’d do a Star Wars-themed post in honor of May 4th (as in, May the Fourth be with you). Whether you’re a big-time fan of the series, or it’s just not your cup of tea, I believe that all writers of fantasy should watch and learn from Star Wars.

Yes, I said fantasy writers, not sci-fi writers. Of course, sci-fi writers can learn storytelling tips from Star Wars, but the Star Wars saga actually fits into the overall fantasy genre more than science fiction. So if you’ve never bothered much with Star Wars because you’re a sword-and-sorcery writer, then perhaps this can help you.

(Side note here – I’m drawing most of my examples from the original trilogy of movies. I’m not here to argue the pros or cons of the prequels, the books, the cartoon, or the video games. Please save your Jar-Jar Binks fan mail for a different post).

Star Wars is what I would call space opera or space fantasy. It’s an epic fantasy tale set in outer space with technology and aliens, instead of a setting of kingdoms, magical talismans, and monsters. The story would work just as well set on one planet, with all the magical trappings of standard fantasy. Here are some key elements of Star Wars that I believe any fantasy (or sci-fi) writer can use in their own work:

Archetypal characters and the hero’s journey. George Lucas followed the format of the hero’s journey, as laid out by Joseph Campbell and Christopher Vogler. This does not necessarily make the story “better” than anyone else’s plot, but the key stages of this storytelling format are common in folktales and classic fantasy alike. Character archetypes of the hero (Luke Skywalker), the guardian (Obi-Wan Kenobi), the skeptic (Han Solo), and so on can drive many fantasy tales.

It’s okay to use traditional fantasy terms. We all want our stories and the worlds we create to be totally original, and many of us like to invent our own terms or even languages. This is a good – and expected – element of fantasy: Sith, Jedi, Dagobah, Wookie. But Star Wars also shamelessly uses “classic” fantasy terms that we’re all familiar with: Light, Dark, Knight, Lord. Using these terms helps the audience to understand a plot point or a character’s role without having to devote a lot of time to explanations.

Redemptive story and happy ending. This is certainly not a requirement for fantasy – even the non-dark “high” fantasy genre. And many readers aren’t satisfied with a tidy “and they all lived happily ever after.” But most of the main characters should grow, overcome, and be victorious in at least some way. And everyone loves a good “redemption from evil” story – another staple of fantasy. Darth Vader’s rejection of the Dark Side of the Force, the destruction of the second Death Star, Han and Leia becoming a couple – despite all the pain and loss throughout the saga, things end on a high note.

Magic or technology that is unexplained yet consistently accepted. This is one of the elements that makes Star Wars more predominantly fantasy rather than science fiction. The futuristic, high-tech world is there, but there is little explanation given from a scientific or technical side. Yes, any good geek has read the tech manuals for the Death Star and knows all the specs of X-Wings versus Y-Wings – but none of those details are part of the story itself. Within the world of Star Wars, everyone knows that Jedi Knights carry lightsabers. No one wonders about how a lightsaber works, nor do they care. Like a magic sword in a high fantasy tale, the how’s and why’s behind the magic are (usually) of minimal importance. The point is that everyone knows the sword is magic.

Good versus Evil. Yes, the old good versus evil thing is the plot of most stories, fantasy and otherwise. And often – in any genre – good and evil are not absolutes. But a well-defined “bad guy” or “force of evil” is what drives a lot of good fantasy tales. In Star Wars, there’s never any doubt as to who the enemy is: the enemy is the Dark Side of the Force. Characters come and go and switch sides, but the Darkness is always there and is always the enemy.

So now go grab some popcorn and cue up Netflix or your old DVDs, enjoy Luke and R2-D2 and the gang, and then go write some fantasy!

Creating Fantasy Creatures and Alien Species

I read a great blog some time ago (here and here) about the use of non-human characters in fantasy and science-fiction. It’s true that non-human creatures are a staple of these genres; and for those of us who write sci-fi and fantasy, creating new creatures is part of the fun of world-building.

I’m not going to lay out rules for creating magical creatures or alien life-forms. However, similar to other forms of world-building, I believe there are some factors that should be considered when creating non-human people.

Note: these guidelines/suggestions apply primarily to sentient creatures rather than regular animals, as I’m discussing the roles that individuals of these species may play as major or supporting characters. Think Wookies rather than taun-tauns.

If you’re inventing a fairy kingdom or an alien race to be major players in your story, then you want them to well-rounded and have all the nuances and details of any real culture. (This is not to say that every writer must aspire to have Tolkien-esque creations, complete with their own language, mythology, and land of after-life). But if you want your creatures to be appealing to the reader, they should be more than one-dimensional over-generalizations.

What are the qualities that make them non-human?

There’s nothing wrong with simply sticking pointed ears on a human and calling it an elf or a Vulcan, but if you’re going to all the work of creating a non-human race, then why is it important that these people be non-human? This could be for any number of reasons (magical realm, alien planet, plot about human versus non-human war, etc). But my point here is that there need to be some noticeable, and story-specific, reasons that these characters are not mere humans from the neighboring land.

Physiology: Wings, prehensile tails, fur, gills. Creatures that eat rocks, breathe methane, live in the ice, live in the sun. The plot of your story may dictate certain physical attributes that your creatures have. Again, there’s nothing wrong with a humanoid with pointed ears, but consider other aspects of the physiology as it relates to the plot and other needs of your story.

Emotions/Mindset: How do these people (as a race in general, or specific characters) think and feel that makes them different from the human characters? Do they consider anger to be a sign of strength and prestige? Do they have no concept of betrayal, and so your character experiences completely new emotions when betrayed by a human character? Since I’ve been talking about pointy-eared folks, consider the Vulcans and their mindset of placing reason above emotions.

Culture: This one sort of goes along with the previous entry of emotions and racial thought-process, but it’s a bit broader. What about the culture makes it so radically different from any human society? If your pointy-eared elves look, think, feel, dress, eat, talk, work, and play exactly the same way that most any human society would, then why bother making them non-human? How does their clothing indicate each individual’s role in the family structure? What is unique about their art or their music? What do they eat during special ceremonies? Not every detail of a culture has to be established (and if you’re writing a long epic or a series, many of these details can be revealed over the long haul). But again, try to make your people unique as a race in more ways than just pointy-eared humans who all wear purple sashes on Fridays.

Example: Hobbits. Yep, they’re pretty humanoid (and have pointed ears!) They even have a lot of human cultural traits like fancy silverware and books on the bookshelves, ale-drinking at pubs, fireworks at parties. But what are some things that make then distinctly non-human?

Hobbits have giant, furry feet that are sturdier than the best shoes. Frodo and Sam hiked all the way to Mordor barefoot, and sore feet was one thing that never bothered them. Hobbits frown upon adventures and doing anything wild and crazy and new. The very human-like craving to explore and do something new made both Bilbo and Frodo outcasts of a sort. In broader cultural terms, hobbits shun boats and water, despite the prevalence of rivers in their land. And they avoid outsiders, not so much out of fear, but rather out of a cultural mindset of believing that their land is immune to the problems that plague the rest of the world.

What are the qualities that make them human?

Now we come to the flip side of creating imaginary creatures and alien races. Unless you’re writing a humans-versus-creatures-who-have-no-redeeming-qualities story (like, say, in the movie Independence Day), then you want your people to have some human qualities to make them relatable. Chances are your human characters will be interacting with the non-humans in many different ways, and having some point of familiarity can smooth rough patches or add to the tension, depending on your plot and how you use it.

Also, some human qualities will make these made-up creatures more likeable by your readers. Again, unless you’re doing an Independence Day-type story, you want your readers to enjoy reading about the creatures you’ve created.

Physiology: Physical features are perhaps the least important (at least, in my opinion) for the human-relatability factor. But if the needs of your story demand the humans and the non-humans to interact in any way beside total war and annihilation, then having some common ground to work from could be good. In the classic Star Trek episode “The Devil in the Dark,” the non-human character was a living rock. But even then, the Enterprise crew and the alien found a common ground when the humans figured out that the rock was a female protecting her eggs. Not that humans lay eggs, but the mother-protecting-her-young thing was enough to launch an understanding.

Emotions/Mindset: This category, and the next one of culture, are where you can build the strongest human-like elements in your magical or alien race. It doesn’t have to be big or obvious. But if your fairies have a sense of humor and laugh at jokes – even if those jokes make no sense to the humans – that is your common ground. The fairies have a sense of humor, just like humans – even if each race has to struggle to understand each other’s humor.

Culture: Again, you don’t have to go overboard with similarities to human culture (refer back to the pointy-eared just-like-humans-in-almost-every-way example I used earlier). Unless, of course, loads of similarities is part of the plot or theme of your book. But in general, just a few commonalities is enough to make your fantasy creatures believable and understood by your readers. Maybe your elves put the same emphasis on fashion that most human cultures past and present have? Maybe your aliens are radically alien in every way, but even they bond and find community while eating together? Make it as big or little, emphatic or unimportant as you want, but some little human element can help hook and ground your human readers.

Example: The dragons from Jeff Smith’s epic fantasy comic Bone. Physiology is where they are the least human – they’re dragons, after all. But even the main dragon character The Great Red Dragon has distinctly human-like hands, complete with smooth flexible fingers and opposable thumbs. The dragon racial mindset and culture is one rooted in fear, despite their great wisdom and power. Fear does strange things to people and makes them do things they might not normally do if they were thinking clearly – and this is what has happened to the dragons as a people as the story begins. The Great Red Dragon finds himself trying to be the lone voice of reason to both his own kind and the humans – a position that most people could understand, if not identify with.

So there’s my take on the populating of fantasy worlds. These are far from being rules, for sure, but are just common elements that I’ve noticed from some of the best sci-fi and fantasy stories. Now go grab some humans, some pointed ears, and let your imagination run wild!

Update: Here is another post along this vein, about using real-world animals in a fantasy setting.

World Building, part 1

Setting is important, to one degree or another, in just about any work of fiction. But the genres of fantasy and sci-fi need something a bit heftier than a mere setting of the scene. In this post and the next one, I’m going to cover a few basics of the specific sort of scene-setting known as world-building.

In the genres of fantasy and science fiction, basically anything goes. But even in these and related genres (dystopian, paranormal, etc), there are guidelines that should be followed for the story to hold together and be convincing.

A fantasy world does not have to be “realistic” in the sense that it resembles our own world, but it should have its own set of rules, and things that happen in that world need to happen in accordance with these rules.

Inaccuracy or inconsistency of details are things that savvy readers will notice. Sci-fi and fantasy readers especially can be a nit-picking, detail-oriented bunch (or, at least, I am. And I’m sure I’m not the only one).

1. Natural Laws

Gravity, weather, the day-night cycle, the behavior of animals in their native environments—nature follows a set of laws in our world, and in a fantasy world it should do the same.

Let’s say your sci-fi story is about human colonists on a planet that orbits very close to its sun, so the surface temperature is hot enough to liquefy steel in minutes. If their space ships can barely survive long enough to land and take off again, then a lone human parading around in a space suit isn’t going to fare any better.

Are the humans’ colonies deep underground? Do they live in mobile cities that travel at the same rate as the planet’s rotation, so they always stay on the cooler night side of the planet? Even though the story is not “realistic” in the sense that it’s our world here and now, it needs to be realistic in that setting.

2. Cultural Laws

This one gives the writer more leeway than natural laws, in my opinion. You can set up your culture of fairies or aliens or gothic kingdoms any way you want. Religion, clothing, dinner table customs—go nuts and be creative! The most important thing about cultural laws is making these traditions laws within the story, and sticking to it.

In The Silver Chair (of The Chronicles of Narnia), when the main characters are eating dinner at the giants’ mansion, it’s revealed that the venison served had been a Talking Stag. Killing (and especially eating) a Talking animal amounts to murder of the highest degree in Narnian culture. The giants’ complete disregard for this cultural law makes them an abomination to the Narnians.

In several of the Narnia books, the subject of killing a Talking animal—even in self defense—is mentioned. The consistency of this cultural law throughout the series adds depth and believability to the world.

3. Avoid Deus ex machina

This is the “move of God,” or a surprise ending where an unexpected superpower sweeps in and miraculously fixes everything. Deus ex machina can occur in any genre, but fantasy and sci-fi can be particularly susceptible.

If your urban fantasy story is about clan warfare between different vampire clans in the city, and you’ve written yourself into a corner where the only way to stop the war is to sacrifice the main character, you have one of three options.

You can kill off the main character, and pull at your readers’ heartstrings (or possibly incur their wrath). You can go back and do some major rewriting, so that the tension and drama and resolving of the conflict challenges the main character but doesn’t kill him. Or, you can have some aliens abduct the rival clan and take them to another planet, thus halting the war.

That third option would be a Deus ex machina, and should be avoided at all costs. If aliens are already part of the story, or have been hinted at and foreshadowed effectively, then maybe you could get away with that sort of ending. But if the story is about vampires, humans, and more vampires, then suddenly bringing in aliens to solve the problem cheapens the story and confuses the readers.

I’ll continue this list next week. Any thoughts about these world building tips? Any dos or don’ts you’d like to add?